


A Matter of Security

by TheCursor



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28273383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCursor/pseuds/TheCursor
Summary: Seven hundred years into the future, a New Republic representative and a Mandalorian discuss security for an upcoming event on Mandalore.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 109





	A Matter of Security

Lorca Nissin had never seen a Jedi wearing armor. He had been told that such a sight was common in ages past, during the endless conflicts of ancient times. He could remember some of their names of those wars from school: The Sith Wars, the Light and Darkness Wars, the Clone Wars. But the Jedi of the Republic hadn't had to wear armor or draw their lightsabers in years. The peace and stability of the inner space meant that most Jedi were only ceremonial warriors who rarely fought in conflicts. They were mediators and monks and explorers. 

The Jedi of the Mandalore Temple were very different. They wore Beskar armor and full-face masks and trained ruthlessly in every possible form of combat. 

Today the younglings who were standing in the temple courtyard were learning how to fight with whistling birds, the signature weapon of Mandalore the Watcher, the greatest warrior in the planet's history and technically the founder of this temple. Because it was at the behest of that great king that the Jedi opened this school, that they began training students from the outer rim of the galaxy closer to home and their families. 

Lorca winced as one of the students, who couldn't have been much older than nine, misfired his weapon and hit the pure Beskar statue of Mandalore the Watcher. The tiny missile hit the image of the king's lightsaber and the sturdy metal rang from the vibration. The boy started to cry but a man in full Mandalorian armor walked over and hugged the child until he stopped crying. A strange alien janitor walked over and mumbled in annoyance as he started sweeping up the broken stone and dust that the missile had left behind. 

When he had taken out his broom and began his work, the Mandalorian who had been comforting the boy seemed to bark an order at him and the Janitor suddenly tripled his pace. The creature was a short green sentient from a race Lorca had never seen before, had started working harder than ever. Then this Mandalorian dismissed the class and walked over to Lorca: "I am Merin Kestrel, of Clan Fett, I am the Drill Master for this temple, are you the secretary?" 

Lorca bristled, "I am a personal assistant to President Diurnal, yes," He looked around for another representative of the temple leadership but found no one, only the Janitor and Merin, "Where is your master? I was told he would be here." 

Merin turned his helmeted head to look at the Janitor and then back to Lorca, "If you speak of Master Grogu, he is busy and he is not my master." 

"Aren't you a Jedi?"

"I am not a Jedi, I volunteer my time at the temple to teach younglings in the ways of combat," He said, "Master Grogu has sent the leaders of Clan Mudhorn on a training mission to Concord Dawn, they will be gone for many days." 

"I don't want to speak to Clan Mudhorn I want to speak to-"

"Again, the Master is busy and the Jedi council of this temple are on Concord Dawn," Lorca's confusion must've been evident on his face because Merin seemed to be laughing under his helmet, "All Jedi trained by this temple are claimed as foundlings by Clan Mudhorn of House Djarin. They are considered Mandalorian and thus go on training missions like our people do every spring." 

Lorca sighed, certainly not expecting to meet this much resistance to a simple diplomatic visit, "This is highly unusual." 

"This is the way." 

"Well regardless, I must speak with Master Grogu about security for the President's visit next month," A thought came to him and he straightened his back to make himself appear taller, "Surely a great warrior who was a student of Luke Skywalker and a teacher of Rey Skywalker can understand that."

He had hoped that might make Merin see reason but instead it only seemed to make him angry. His voice was low and a little threatening as it left the speaker of his helmet's vocorder, "Grogu would tell you that war doesn't make one great, little man," Merin shooed Lorca away angrily, "Go, we will contact you when Master Grogu is ready for you." 

Lorca's jaw dropped open, he honestly did not assume that this would be such a difficult process. He waited for Merin to reveal he was kidding but instead seemed flabbergasted as he slowly walked out of the courtyard

When the human was finally gone, Jedi Master Grogu put down his broom. "Hot-tempered, the President's assistant is." 

"Well he's from the Republic and thinks he's important," Merin said before crossing his arms and looking down at the seven hundred-year-old Jedi, "Father, I tire of this charade. Why do we care if someone assassinates a foreign president?" 

Grogu pulled off his tattered brown robe to reveal his beskar body armor. He adjusted it and took a moment to grasp the tiny metal ball that hung from the hilt of his lightsaber, "To prevent needless death, the right thing it is," He looked up at his adopted son, "And a promise to be honorable, we made." 

Merin looked up at the statue of Mandalore the Watcher, the man who adopted and raised his own foster father seven hundred years earlier. Once again he felt the weight of history upon his shoulders, "You mean to grandfather? To the man who raised you?" 

Grogu nodded, again touching the metal ball on his lightsaber, "Never easy the right thing is, often hard and usually inconvenient. But we must be both Jedi and Mandalorians and show honor," He looked up at his son, almost using his gaze to dill a hole in the young man's helmet, "The way this is." 

"This is the way." Merin nodded.


End file.
